An Antique Christmas
by VanillaJ1967
Summary: "We can stay... just until Christmas. It won't be too long. I'm certain it will be safe at least until the end of the week," The Christmas Henry had stayed, it had been worth it. He'd always remembered that Christmas, and it had always been a fond memory. DISCLAIMER: I don't own any Forever characters, just borrowing.


**_This is my first, and possibly only Forever Onshot. Let me know what you think. Read and review please! :D :D This is only up thanks to Samsquatch67. (Without whose help, I would be hopelessly, angrily trying to figure out how to post a story! Haha!)_**

_Henry Morgan walked through the door of the small apartment he and his family shared. With a slow, but resolute movement, he closed the door, took off his hand and left it hanging on a hook beside the door. __He looked around, seeing the house decorated in pale, glowing lights, and Christmas wreaths. The small tree he and his ten-year-old son, Abe, had put up, glowed in its corner. The house smelled of spices and the warmth of the fire could be felt, conquering the chill of the outdoors he'd just come from. Despite the happy feel of the room, Henry sighed in frustration._

__

_At the sound of his sigh, his wife, Abigail, popped around the corner. She smiled sadly at him, seeing the expression on his face. "What is it, Henry?" she asked, crossing the distance between them and kissing her husband lightly, then stepping back to wait for his answer. She straightened his blue-grey scarf, and her bright eyes met his tired ones._

_"Someone saw me today... someone from the war," he stated. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to stay for Christmas at least, but..."_

_Abigail put a finger to his lips, shushing him and pointing to the hallway, in the direction of Abe's room. She pulled Henry away from the door, toward the living room. "Are you sure?" she asked._

_"Yes,"_

_"I'll start packing," she said with a quiet sigh._

_In that moment, Henry found himself falling in love with her again. He had thought he couldn't love her more, but he could, and now he did. She never asked why, she never denied him this... she let him just up and leave, pulling her and Abe with him. Their lives were so far from stable, but Abigail never complained, and she never threatened to leave him. He knew it must be hard._

_"Wait..." he called to her as she moved to leave. He caught her by the arm and drew her back to him._

_She stopped, eyes slightly wide and confused. "What is it?"_

_"We can stay... just until Christmas. It won't be too long. I'm certain it will be safe at least until the end of the week,"_

_Abigail beamed, wrapping her arms around him and whispering 'thank you,' and 'I love you.' Henry kissed the top of her head and smiled slightly, glad for once that he'd decided to wait. It was the right thing to do, and he knew it. This time... just this time, it was right, and he was at peace. He smiled..._

"Henry!" Abe's voice broke him out of the memory, pulling Henry back to the twenty-first century, away from the quiet moment so long ago, days before Christmas.

"What is it, Abe?" he asked, setting down his tea and standing up from his comfortable rocking chair. Henry moved around the antique furniture, breathing in the familiar scent of old wood. he came around the corner to see Abraham, standing beside a partially decorated, pre-lit Christmas tree.

"Wonders of the twenty-first century, Henry... PRELIT trees! Progress!" he stated, waving one finger at his younger-older father and nodding as if to acknowledge his own statement.

"Hardy! I find that it takes the intimacy out of the holiday," Henry returned, smiling at the expression that passed over Abe's face.

"You're just stuck in the past. You'll have to get over that at some point. You know I won't be around to..."

"Abraham! Not now!" Henry scolded.

Abe raised his hands in defense. "All right, all right, sorry... Just saying."

"Now, did you call me in here to tell me what a wonderful invention pre-lit trees were?" Henry questioned.

"No, get me that chair," he 'commanded.'

Henry cocked his head to one side, eyebrows moving downward and eyes narrowing just slightly, giving off a suspicious expression. He picked up the wooden chair Abe had pointed to, then carted it toward him. He set it down beside Abe and waited to see what he would do with it.

Abe shoved a silver star into Henry's hand, smiled impishly at him, then pointed to the chair. "Now get on it and put this up there..."

Henry smiled, shaking his head in disbelief as he took the item and looked at the top of the Christmas tree, then the chair, then back at Abe. "Using subterfuge to get me to decorate with you, eh, Abe?"

"Always, now get up there. My old bones won't let me," he said, clapping Henry on the shoulder and giving him another grin.

Henry took the star, climbed up on the chair, and quickly placed it. He looked back down, craning his neck so he could see his friend and son. "Is it straight?"

"Nah, a little to the left."

Henry moved it, smirking at the way Abe had to have everything perfect. He fixed it, getting the thumbs up from Abe, then clamored back down the chair.

"Merry Christmas," Henry said.

"And another Merry Christmas to you, Sir!" Abe replied. Henry nodded, then watched as Abe disappeared, walking in the direction of the kitchen, calling back that he had a bottle of good scotch that he'd saved for such a time as this, and he would bring it right out.

"Merry Christmas..." Henry whispered to a picture of Abigail, which was placed on the tree every year, then followed after Abe, heading off to celebrate with his son.


End file.
